As yet untitled
by Kelly Holden
Summary: Sometimes cartoon worlds aren't as innocent as they seem. Slash and non-con slash, Bushroot-centric. Highly unlikely to be continued. Ever.
1. Short bit at the beginning

Warning, contains themes of M/M non-consentuality.  
  
Reginald Bushroot was not having a good month. Actually, the one before that hadn't been crash-hot either. To be perfectly honest, his whole life felt pretty much fucked, and despite his current problems with Negaduck, there no pun intended in that statement.  
Yes, "Negaduck", "fucked" and "no pun intended" in the one sentence. His problems with Negaduck were *extremely* personal.  
The others, Quackerjack, Megavolt, and The Liquidator, had noticed in a manner of speaking, but since The Liquidator had asked if he was the only straight member of the Fearsome Five, and Quackerjack had just giggled and gone back to snogging Megavolt at that comment, he knew they'd gotten the wrong end of the stick in regards to the nature of his 'relationship' with Negaduck. He knew his place, however, he was a fuck-toy, plain and simple. No soft feelings here. Usually minimal lube, and no prep, for that matter. His feelings mattered nothing. Actually they did, in a twisted way. Negaduck was a sadist ,after all. The minimal lube that *was* used was for Negaduck's comfort, not Reginald's.   
Reginald Bushroot knew one thing for sure. The only person who could really help him probably wouldn't want to, and there was no way he wanted to discuss his "personal life" with Darkwing Duck. The Posy incident had been bad enough.  
  
***************  
  
Bushroot leant against a small tree in his greenhouse. Sitting was just out of the question. Every part of him between his waist and his knees hurt, after the last time Negaduck had had his way with him. He sighed and stood up straight, he wasn't getting out of this situation by doing nothing. He did up his trenchcoat (which he'd taken to wearing almost constantly to hide the constant livid dark-green bruising on his hips) picked up his hat and headed out of his greenhouse, to find Morgana McAwber.  
  
Morgana opened her door, expecting any of a number of people, but definitely not a supervillain.   
"What do you want?" she snapped, ready to turn him into something unpleasant with the slightest provocation.  
Bushroot cringed. "I need to talk to Darkwing. Since I have actually no idea how to get a hold of him without getting arrested by him, I came to see you, since you're his girlfriend."  
"Ex," snapped Morgana. "As of half an hour ago, in fact."  
"Um... My condolences, Morgana. That doesn't change the fact I need to speak to Darkwing, and I'm sure you'd know how to contact him."  
"The St. Carnard side tower of the Aubudon Bay bridge has his hideout in it. If he's not there, wait for a bit, he'll be back eventually," said Morgana.  
Bushroot blinked, wondering why Morgana had given him such a sensitive piece of information, then decided he didn't care, if it got him a chance to talk to Darkwing, preferably alone. If Lauchpad was there, he was quite sure he wouldn't be able to say anything.   
  
*  
  
Short, I know, but more coming once I ditch the writer's block. A Bushroot/Negs non-con first occured to me a little while ago, and I couldn't get the idea out of my head.   
Kelly 


	2. First long bit

A few weeks ago I got over the writer's block that stopped this fic at the end of last chapter, and it quite suddenly occurred to me that I don't think 'snogging' is actually a very American word. It's more British/Australian. Tell me if you find the word unnatural in that context at all, and I'll swap it for 'kissing', 'making out' or something, since I'm already planning on changing a few things in the first chapter. BTW, thanks everybody for your reviews, and Aurora, you're responsible for me getting over the writer's block, so extra special thanks to you, even if during a very busy week at uni is a bad time to get over writer's block.  
I've decided to stick with cartoon physics rather than real physics, with the result that Reggie actually makes use of his 'hammer space' (that area behind one's back that one keeps such assorted things as hammers, chainsaws and, in Reggie's case, watering cans) and a physical feat that is part of his canonical powers, but as far as I can tell is a violation of real physics (Law of the conservation of matter, to put a fine enough point on it).  
Cygnet is the proper word for a juvenile swan, but I'm sure you all already knew that (and if you didn't, you just learned something).  
  
Proper disclaimer: You can possibly think this lot belong to me, do you? Well, they don't. The plot might be mine, but the characters are Disney's. Whether you think this (or any) work of 'fan fiction' is illegal or not depends on your interpretation of 'fair use' under copyright law. If fanfic isn't fair use, it ought to be. Mind you, I also think the NSW age of consent ought to be the same for gay blokes as for straights, but it's not.  
  
***  
  
It was just another of many strange, probably doomed, and some might say stupid, schemes to take over St Canard. Once again, Darkwing Duck had been determined to stop it, and once again, the Fearsome Five had captured him trying to sabotage their scheme. Right now, having not gotten to the escaping part of the general pattern, Darkwing was in Negaduck's room of the hotel suite the Five had requisitioned.  
It was strangely quiet in there.  
There was nobody Darkwing could count on to rescue him, since the dinosaur (what was his name? Stegmutt? The mere thought of him was enough to give Reggie shudders, giving him no incentive to remember) and Neptunia were out of town, he'd broken up with Morgana, and the little red-headed girl (who wasn't so little anymore) and his sidekick Launchpad had already been captured (Negaduck was leaving nothing to chance this time around).  
Reggie quietly weighed up the alternatives in his mind -- Jail--rest of life as Negaduck's bitch, Jail--rest of life as Negaduck's bitch. Jail won hands down, quite frankly. Reggie's first order of business then, was to distract Negaduck.   
Starting an argument between Megavolt and Quackerjack was ridiculously easy. All he'd done was suggest to Quackerjack that he'd seen Megavolt fiddling with a light bulb a few days ago. Naturally Quackerjack was jealous, and of course Megavolt couldn't deny it, since he couldn't remember if he'd done it or not. After a few minutes of increasingly loud squabbling, Negaduck came charging out of his room looking annoyed and disheveled, and wearing a robe, not his costume. The red in his cheeks probably wasn't just anger, thought Reggie, with a sinking heart.  
Taking advantage of Negaduck's blind rage, Bushroot slipped into Negaduck's room and locked the door behind him. He had only a few minutes before Negaduck tried to get back in his room, if that.  
Darkwing was cuffed to the bed, and his costume was lying shredded beside it. Thankfully Negaduck had left the keys on the bedside table, but unfortunately Darkwing was unconscious. Reggie wrapped Darkwing in his trenchcoat, picked him up; thanking the evolutionary process for the strength cellulose gives cell walls; and walked over to the window.  
The quick-grow vine/arm trick came in handy for lowering Darkwing to the ground, and Reggie quickly followed, dropping lightly to the second floor awning, once again thankful for cellulose, this time for its low mass as well as its strength.  
Darkwing had left his motorcycle outside the hotel, and Reggie tucked him into the sidecar, and rode off.  
  
***  
  
Darkwing came to feeling remarkably sore, and not in a particularly good way. He shifted, attempting to sit up, and a bright flare of extra pain reminded him why he'd lost consciousness in the first place.  
"*Ow!*" he found himself saying.  
Dr Bushroot materialized in his fuzzy field of vision.  
"You're going to be sitting gingerly for some time, Darkwing," he remarked as he rather surprisingly helped Darkwing to sit up.  
"What's going on?" asked Darkwing, realizing that he was in the now little used bed in *his* hideout, and not in the Five's hideout.  
"I rescued you," said the supervillain mildly.  
"Why?" asked Darkwing, wincing as he shifted again.  
"I need your help, and you can't help me if you're dead."  
"That makes sense."  
"Plus, you couldn't count on help from anybody else."  
"Launchpad?"  
"Negaduck's got him. The kid, too."  
"Sh... Sugar!" 'swore' Darkwing, jumping out of bed. "Goslyn!"  
"Oh, is that her name?" said Bushroot, unconcernedly.  
"That *creature* has my teenage daughter. Could you at least fake a little concern?"  
"I'll help you attempt to rescue them, but I'm not faking concern for anyone. Worst he'll do to her is try to kill her."  
"Oh, like that's a real comfort."  
There was an awkward pause, which was brought to an end by Darkwing asking sheepishly,  
"Bushroot, could you get my spare costume for me? It's in that closet over there."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Reggie! Where you been? Negaduck went to look for you, and he took Sparky and The Liquidator, and Darkwing Dunce managed to escape," Quackerjack enthused at Reggie.  
"I went for a walk, I needed some fresh air, QJ."  
"Oh, OK," said the toy-maker.  
Reggie watched Darkwing sneak around the edges of the room while he kept Quackerjack occupied, and pick the lock of the cage Negaduck was keeping the kid and Launchpad in.  
For a loss of what to do now, he said "Hey, look, they're escaping!" and when Quackerjack turned around, belted him over the back of the head with the watering can Reggie usually kept in his hammer space, and joined Darkwing, Launchpad and the kid for the sprint out of there to re-group.   
  
***  
  
"Let me put this bluntly, Bushroot. I don't trust you," said Goslyn.  
"Who distracted Quackerjack while your dad picked the lock? Who got your dad out of there in the first place? You owe me your father's life, and quite possibly your own." pointed out Bushroot, rather needlessly in Darkwing's opinion.  
"Gos, I really think he has reformed," said Launchpad.   
"Reformed, McQuack? That's nothing to do with it. I need protection from Negaduck, and since serving an Apprehended Violence Order on a supervillain isn't to do much good, Darkwing Duck's protection is my best chance, and he's going to be awfully reluctant to protect me if I let anything happen to either of you if I could help, or was running off to rob banks or Gardening centers every few weeks. I need the protection more than I need to stay in the Supervillains' Guild." There was a Supervillains' Guild?  
"Why do you need protection from Negaduck?" Goslyn asked.  
"How old are you, Goslyn?"  
"She's 14, Bushroot," said Darkwing, wincing as he lowered himself into a chair.  
"What's wrong with you, Dad?" Goslyn asked, noticing the wince.  
"I dropped him on his tail when I lowered him out the window, not on purpose, though," said Bushroot, with a dismissive gesture.  
'Thanks for sparing me that explanation, Bushroot,' thought Darkwing, shooting him a grateful look.  
"So, why do you need protection from Negaduck?" Goslyn asked again.  
"Little ears are sometimes too delicate for the whole truth, Kid. Can we just say Negaduck is a very nasty guy, and has no problems being just as nasty to his associates?"  
"I'd prefer the whole truth, but if that's all I'm going to get, it's going to have to do, isn't it?"  
"Maybe you should mind your own business, and go home and do your homework," said Darkwing, a little snappily.  
"But Honker was going to help me with it, and he can't this afternoon, he was going to the movies with Marcus Swan."  
"Negaduck is still in control of this city, what makes you think that the movies will be open?" asked Bushroot.  
"The movie wasn't the point, the point is, even if Honker won't admit it, it was a *date*, like a going out date. Just because they can't go the movies, doesn't mean they won't still want to spend the time together."  
Rather unexpectedly, the transporter chairs flipped, producing Honker and a blindfolded cygnet about Honker and Goslyn's age.  
"We there yet? " asked the cygnet.  
Honker pushed his glasses back up his beak, and replied, "Yes, you can take the blindfold off now."  
"Honker, Marcus, what are you doing here?" asked Goslyn.  
"Well," started Honker, "I thought that y... Mr Darkwing could use a little help,"  
"And Marcus? Why'd he have to come?"  
"Well, I already said I was spending this afternoon with him, not you, and..."  
"You couldn't resist showing off that you know Darkwing Duck personally and know how to get to his hideout," said Bushroot. "Am I right?"  
"What are *you* doing here?" asked Honker, who apparently hadn't noticed Bushroot before he spoke.  
"Helping," said Goslyn.  
"How much help is a supervillain going to be?" asked Marcus, who hadn't spoken before then.  
"Lots so far. I already owe him my life, and he's only been on our side a few hours," said Darkwing.  
  
***  
  
Once the good guys stopped arguing about Reggie, they got down to business, and hammered out a plan. Completely unsurprisingly, it worked, without him going anywhere near Negaduck. The Fearsome Four were in jail (although nobody was counting on them staying there), and Darkwing was for some reason putting together a greenhouse for him in the tower. It was the best Reggie had ever felt at the end of an adventure, and as a result to him it kind of felt incomplete.  
  
***  
  
Still more to come, but I'm trying to make the end of each chapter as resolved as possible so if I don't get the next one out for yet another 14 months (the gap between the first chapter and this one), it won't be too much of a problem. I probably need a beta reader, but as I'm hardly a prolific writer, and, apart from a few words that elude me, a good speller, the only thing I ever bothered to have betaed was my contribution to the 'Snape Fuh-Q fest', but I think, in the long run for this fic, I probably need one. Any volunteers? 


	3. Second long bit

Autotroph is a fancy biologists' word, meaning a 'primary producer' (a plant, not a farmer), or something that produces its own food. In the context used, it just means Reggie's photosynthetic, and therefore he isn't a 'consumer' (once again, in the biological sense). I doubt putting that as my answer on an assignment or exam would have gotten me very many marks though, which is perhaps why I failed. By the way, when I wrote 'animated discussion' in the third scene, I didn't intend it as a pun.  
  
***  
  
"Bushroot?"  
  
Reggie looked up from the Melaluca seedling he was re-potting. "Yes, Darkwing?"  
  
"The Fearsome Four have escaped from jail."  
  
"Thanks for telling me, Darkwing," said Reggie, patting the potting mix down around the baby Australian shrub.  
  
Darkwing looked a little self-conscious. "Um... Would you like to come through to the house for dinner tonight?"  
  
"I don't need to eat, I'm an autotroph, remember. I won't say 'no' to the company, though. I don't think I want to be alone tonight."  
  
"You think he'll try to reclaim you?"  
  
"I'm certain, Darkwing. But I won't go quietly, not this time."  
  
***  
  
"Name?"  
  
"Real name or pseudonym?"  
  
"Real name first, then pseud," replied the clerk.  
  
"Belle Swan, The Lady."  
  
"Description of any superpowers?"  
  
"Psionic talents. Telekinesis, read-only telepathy, and the ability to cause psychokinetic explosions at touch range."   
  
There was a pause while the clerk scratched this down.  
  
"Address?"  
  
"536 Avian Way."  
  
"Marital status?"  
  
"Single."  
  
"Any family?"  
  
"Nephew/ward, Marcus Swan, 16. Mother Kathryn White, nee Swan, Father Gregory Royle, step-father Rodney White, all in late 60's."  
  
There was another pause.  
  
"OK, basic description: Female 'Mute' swan, mid 40's, 5' 1", 140 lb., auburn hair."  
  
"Dark brown, actually. The lights are strange in here."  
  
"Any other group affiliations?"  
  
"The St. Canard 'Pink Parenting' group, the Swans Club. I plan to join the Fearsome Four, taking it back up to Five, but Negaduck required me to join the Supervillains Guild first."  
  
"No group affiliation," muttered the clerk, scribbling again.  
  
***  
  
That evening Darkwing and the kid ate before Darkwing came up to the tower and invited Reggie through to the house, and according to Darkwing Launchpad had a date that night.  
  
"He lives with you?" asked Reggie, rather surprised at the carelessness.  
  
"Yeah, something wrong with that?"  
  
"How is it that your real name is still a secret if you live with your undisguised sidekick and you acknowledge your daughter as such when you're in costume? What if an up-and-coming supervillain was living just across the street?"  
  
"I don't think that's very likely, Bushroot," said Darkwing.   
  
"It doesn't have to be likely to happen. I am quite surprised nobody has worked it out yet. I think it's really rather stupid of you."  
  
"It's not my fault you can't disguise yourself."  
  
"This has nothing to do with me. I don't even use a pseudonym. I just think you're taking needless risks if you really want to keep the two identities separate."  
  
Reggie looked over at the kid, who was now doubled over in silent laughter.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" he asked.  
  
"You two. You sound like an old married couple."  
  
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, young lady," said Darkwing stiffly.  
  
"If we were 'an old married couple' this would be an old argument, not a new one," pointed out Reggie. "Believe me, if I cared, you wouldn't be able to shut me up about it."  
  
"We haven't been about to shut you up so far," said Darkwing.  
  
"I've only been here a few minutes," Reggie said defensively.  
  
"Anything you wanted to watch on TV, Bushroot?" interrupted the kid, in an obvious attempt to head off another argument.   
  
A few minutes of animated discussion followed, after which Reggie and Darkwing settled on a drama about forensic scientists, which was quite good and made Reggie wonder why he hadn't bothered to watch it before.   
  
***  
  
"A nephew, 16?"  
  
"Yes, sir," said Belle.  
  
None of the others have family. What's he like?"  
  
"A bit geeky. A bit on the lazy side, since he finds schoolwork so easy. A bit Goody-two-shoes-ish at times, but I think I can blame my late brother for that - 'give me a child until he is five...' and all that. He's rather short for his age, still has his juvenile plumage. I can't see why he'd prove a problem, he's not the sort of kid who attracts attention."  
  
"A swan, in a duck-dominated part of the country, not attract attention?"  
  
"Well, less than his normal due. He's always been a little too humble, his parents lived in a part of the country that has more mammals than anything else, I don't think he realizes how far we are above ducks. Mind you, I think there may be something wrong with his sense of aestheticism, he's dating a goose," she said, pronouncing 'goose' like a dirty word.  
  
"Really," said Negaduck, his tone colored with skepticism.  
  
"Yes," Belle said, not giving any sign she realized Negaduck *didn't* agree with her. "A properly brought up swan has an adamant belief in our species' aesthetic superiority. If we marry, date, or even just fuck below us, it has to be for a good reason -- and of course we never produce offspring under such circumstances, after all, nobody wants ugly children."  
  
"Perhaps you could demonstrate those 'psionic talents'," said Negaduck through his teeth. This woman was annoying the heck out him. He wondered briefly why anybody would *want * to marry a swan if they were all like this. It was only the fact that he didn't want to scare her off yet that kept him from threatening her with his chainsaw.  
  
"Certainly sir. Which one first?"  
  
***  
  
"I really should be going on patrol, Bushroot. Launchpad should be back soon, and you're welcome to stay here the rest of the night if you can't face the tower alone, just stay out of sight in case LP invites his lady-friend back, OK?"  
  
Reggie nodded.  
  
"Good night, see you in the morning," said Darkwing, and he brushed his hand lightly against Reggie's shoulder, before sitting down in one of the two 'transporter chairs' and pressing the statue to active them.  
  
"Good night," said Reggie, to the empty room.  
  
"Dad gone?" asked the kid down the stairs, which gave Reggie quite a start.  
  
"You're supposed to be in bed," said Reggie mildly.  
  
"Look, Bushroot, I know something's the matter with Dad. I don't know what makes me think it, but I think you know what it is," she said as she came down the stairs two at a time.  
  
"What makes you think something's up?"  
  
"He's letting you live in the tower, for starters. He's not sleeping well -- LP can back me up on that. He's been ... jumpy. And the way he reacted when I said you two sounded like an old married couple -- I expected a quip about not living in a state that recognizes male/male marriages, or you not being his type, not snapping at me like that."  
  
"Perhaps he was uncertain about what my reaction to the teasing would be," suggested Reggie mildly.   
  
"You did seem a bit hard on Honker when he brought Marcus up to the tower," said Goslyn.  
  
"He was a nerdy little kid, trying to shed a more macho light on himself by making sure his boyfriend knew that he knew *Darkwing Duck* personally. I would have said exactly the same thing if Marcus had been a Marcia."  
  
"Would you?"   
  
"Yes, I would have. Now go back to bed, or I will fetch your father."  
  
***  
  
Next chapter will be up here in about a week (depends when I get around to it), and will be posted on the Toonslash Yahoo! group (see my author page) as soon as I finish fiddling with FF.net, and all subsequent chapters will be posted on Toonslash first. Yes, I am bribing you to join my Yahoo! group. 


	4. Third long bit

"Auntie Belle didn't come home last night."   
  
Reggie briefly wondered who was talking, but decided to just listen, seeing as his eyelids were too heavy to open at this point in time.  
  
"Marcus," said The Kid, "Don't panic. Grown-ups have personal lives too, you know."  
  
"But she's still not home," whined Marcus. "And she usually tells me if she's staying out all night. Besides, the things she wore out last night weren't work-suitable, so even if nothing's happened to her, she's going to be late to work. Can I come in?"  
  
"Look, just go to school, or go next door and talk to Honker. I'm running late, I still need to make my lunch, among other things."  
  
There was a noise remarkably like somebody shoving their way through a partly-open door, and a feminine yell of protest.  
  
"Why is there a supervillain on your sofa?" asked Marcus, sounding bewildered. Reggie thought he should probably continue to feign sleep.  
  
"He's not a supervillain anymore, you know. Look, he wanted protection from Negaduck, so he went to Darkwing for help. Negaduck escaped from jail yesterday, and Darkwing asked Dad if Bushroot could stay here, since apparently he didn't want to be alone last night, and he couldn't go on patrol with Darkwing."  
  
"Why here?"  
  
"You know the goofy-looking guy, the one with the red hair? Launchpad McQuack? You might have seen him, he lives here. He's Darkwing's sidekick, and I assume Darkwing needed somewhere for Bushroot to stay that he'd feel safe."  
  
"So that's how you and Honker know Darkwing Duck."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Sidekick's house-mate's daughter's best friend seems a rather tenuous connection to me, Goslyn. Sidekick's house-mate's daughter's best friend's boyfriend even more so. If Darkwing is willing to trust people on those terms, why wasn't your dad there? He's only sidekick's house-mate."  
  
"He was busy." 'What a lame excuse,' thought Reggie blearily.  
  
"While the whole city was under the control of the Fearsome Five?"  
  
"Four," Reggie found himself correcting the boy. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, which opened reluctantly. "Once I left, there were only four of them."  
  
"Why did you leave?" asked Marcus.  
  
"Negaduck."  
  
"That'll be all you get, unless he thinks the two extra years you have on me make you mature enough for the whole truth, what ever that is," said The Kid.  
  
"McQuack doesn't know either, since I doubt Darkwing betrayed my trust by telling him." Reggie said.  
  
"What on Earth did Negaduck *do* to you?" asked Marcus, incredulously.  
  
"He's not going to tell you, that's the point," said The Kid. "Look, just go and visit Honker. I wasn't kidding when I said I'm running late."  
  
Marcus shrugged. "I'm not actually ready for school yet, I should probably go home and finish."  
  
"You do that," said The Kid, shutting the door after him. "You going back up to the Tower now?" she asked Reggie.  
  
"I probably should. After the lecture I gave your father last night about keeping his two identities separated, it would be hypocritical to risk being seen here again."  
  
Back at the Tower, Darkwing was fiddling with the computer.  
  
"Morning Bushroot," he called over his shoulder. "How'd you sleep?"  
  
"Better than I have for ages. No nightmares, or anything. How was your night?"  
  
"Negaduck's replaced you, at least operationally. They're calling themselves the Fearsome *Five* again. Your 'replacement' is a female swan, quite old for a first time villain, calls herself 'The Lady'. Damn near blew me up," Darkwing said, pointing to a nasty-looking scorch-mark on his cape.  
  
"So what did they try?" asked Reggie, trying to keep his voice steady.  
  
"Simple bank robbery. They left most of it to The Lady, I think it was more about putting her through her paces than the money. She did quite well, too. As I said, she nearly blew me up. And got away with the money."  
  
"Female swan did you say?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"This may be complete coincidence, but Marcus Swan's aunt was out all last night. He was panicking at Goslyn about it not long ago."  
  
"You think Belle Swan could be a supervillain? After what you said about an up-and-coming supervillain living across the street last night, I don't quite trust you enough to believe you're not making it up, given she's exactly opposite from my house."  
  
"I didn't know she lives across the street from you. I don't know where you live, I didn't know Ms Swan's given name, and you can verify with Goslyn what Marcus said."  
  
Darkwing sighed. "I'll check it out, Bushroot, but I'm not expecting to find anything."  
  
"I did say it might just be a coincidence, Darkwing."  
  
***  
  
"So, why did Bushroot leave?" Belle asked, while counting out the money. Since all eyes were on her to ensure she counted out 'fairly' (and looking for opportunities to swipe some from the others), she decided this was probably the time to ask.  
  
"Who?" said Megavolt, before Quackerjack elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
"Does it matter?" Negaduck growled at her.  
  
"Probably not, but I would like to know," Belle said sweetly. Under the cover of the vague distraction of her question, she levitated a few hundred dollars from each pile into her bra.   
  
The Liquidator, who had been leaning damply over her shoulder to watch, leaned over further, and whispered "Three out of five supervillains agree that you'd be better off asking when Negaduck isn't listening," in her ear.   
  
Belle blinked, and after a beat kept counting.  
  
***  
  
"So, why did he leave?" Belle asked, after Negaduck left to go to bed, taking his cut with him.  
  
"Two out of three supervillains are thinking lover's tiff."  
  
"That's an awfully big decision to make based a fight with one's significant other. He'll never steal in this town again. I saw the news. He didn't just disappear, he turned on you, helped Darkwing Duck."  
  
"I know he was with Negaduck, Lady -- it was obvious, but he never seemed happy. In fact, he was downright miserable. I think he didn't just leave Negaduck, he left Negaduck for Darkwing.  
  
"Oh. Is that all you've got?"  
  
"One out of two supervillains think this conversation is over."  
  
"Make that two out of two, Liquidator. I'm going home to bed."  
  
***  
  
"You know Spike, it hurt when he said he didn't trust me enough to believe I wasn't making up what I overheard about the Swan woman. I wasn't expecting it to. I am turning into a do-gooder, aren't I?" 


	5. Finally, a sign of physical attraction

Is anybody still reading this, or am I just typing into thin cyberspace?  
  
As you can see, this is still untitled and I still have no idea what to call it. Suggestions please?  
  
***  
  
"Ms McAwber?"  
  
"Yes, what do you want?"  
  
"I understand you recently rejoined the Supervillains' Guild. Might I ask why?"  
  
"The official 'Cooling Off' period following a break-up from a designated Hero ended. What other reason do I need?"  
  
"You were a victim of 'Catwoman Syndrome' then?"  
  
"You could say that, 'Lady'. I wasn't a very serious villain before I started dating Dark, I was only in it to pay off my college tuition, and when an accomplice very nearly killed him in defiance of my orders, I realized I couldn't be a villain and a Hero's girlfriend at the same time. Not without major conflicts of interest. But since he dumped me, I've decided to become serious about it, but, like I said, the cooling off period."  
  
"You've met Dr. Bushroot, haven't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Seriously, do you think it's likely that he would succumb to 'Catwoman Syndrome'?"  
  
"Well, I'm heard rumors about him and Negaduck, and Negaduck and Dark are fairly similar, but I don't he's Dark's type."  
  
"Thank you. Now, I don't suppose you'd care to join me for a drink, would you?"  
  
***  
  
Darkwing was chasing a maze of evidence. Belle knew several employees of a small private company that Darkwing had never bothered to pay any attention to, SCSVG Pty. Ltd., at least one romantically. He still couldn't trace the owner, since the company was owned by an offshore company (New Zealander to put a fine enough point on it) that was owned by an other offshore company (Indonesian) which was owned by yet another offshore company (Oilrabian this time) and there the trail petered out. SCSVG Pty. Ltd. claimed to be an insurer, but Darkwing sure didn't know anybody they'd insured.   
  
Feeling a little lost, Darkwing called their number from the phone book.  
  
"Saint Canard Supervillains' Guild, reception, Lisa Cheetah speaking." Lisa sounded like somebody had taken a typical 'valley girl' and sent her to a British school where she'd gotten teased about her accent, with the result she was valley girl bubbly with a slightly put-on sounding British accent.  
  
"Sorry," Darkwing said, "wrong number," and hung up.  
  
Well, that was interesting. The person or persons responsible had enough subtlety to stop him finding out who they were, but not quite enough sense to stop their receptionists answering the phone with the real name of the organization.  
  
The fact he'd found the Fearsome Five's hideout that first time thanks to a hotel room-service crumb while he had managed to miss the obvious-to-everybody-else flag reminded him of itself. They were hiding themselves from intelligent subtlety, not from people who might pick up the phone and dial the number. In other words -- him.  
  
Just as this thought smacked him across the head and challenged him to an arm-wrestle, there was an explosion from the greenhouse.  
  
He was up and across the tower in seconds.  
  
"Bushroot!"  
  
"I'm all right," said a slightly sheepish voice from under the remains of the greenhouse, "but I think I destroyed what I was working on."  
  
*Meeow.* Darkwing looked around.  
  
"Did what you were working on involve cats?"  
  
"There was catnip, but no felines," said Bushroot, as he sat up and carefully brushed glass splinters off himself.  
  
Never-the-less, a green, yet unambiguously felinoid thing emerged from the wreckage not far from Bushroot. It purred at Darkwing, and brushed against his legs in a vaguely friendly manner.  
  
"Oh, bother. I can't keep her, not with Spike about," said Bushroot.  
  
"I take it this kitty was unintentional?"  
  
"Yes. I was working on my experiments concerning vegetable-origin sentience. I've shown noticeable success on the matter of creating independently animate plants, but the smartest I've managed so far that hasn't been monstrous is Spike," said Bushroot as he stood up.  
  
"Maybe Catnip here will be a bit brighter."  
  
"Unlikely. She's the result of an accident, and I don't have that much luck. You remember Posy." Bushroot stepped out of the wreckage, and gave it a mournful glance.  
  
Darkwing shuddered. He'd been through a lot, but the Vampire Potato incident still ranked among his less pleasant memories.  
  
"What about you?" Darkwing asked.  
  
"I started with a sentient being and turned it into a plant that time, without really intending to. I'm trying to create people from plants, not turn more people into plants."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because. Spirit of scientific inquiry."  
  
"Nothing to do with being lonely, is it?"  
  
"You tell me. The only women I can count on speaking to me are either begging for mercy or work for the Supervillains' Guild. Could rather, there's nobody now."  
  
There was a flip of the transporter chairs, and Goslyn emerged. It suddenly occurred to Darkwing that it must be later than he thought it was if Goslyn was home from school.  
  
"Hi Dad, Bushroot. What happened?"   
  
"Experiments blow up sometimes. I'm still a scientist, even if I'm not a supervillain anymore," replied Bushroot, quite calmly for somebody who'd just blown up his house, or equivalent thereof.  
  
The newly christened 'Catnip' trotted over to Goslyn, and rubbed against her legs, purring. Goslyn bent over and picked her up.  
  
"Is this what you were working on, Bushroot?" she asked.  
  
Bushroot shook his head. "No, she's an accident."  
  
She looked at Bushroot, eyes wide. 'Can I keep her?"  
  
"If it's all right with your father. Since she's feline, and Spike is behaviorally canine, I can't really keep her myself, since I doubt they'll get on."  
  
"Dad?" she asked, turning big eyes on Darkwing.  
  
"As long as you look after her properly. And you're to treat her like a kitty, not a house-plant. Talk to Bushroot about what she needs. Now, I'm going home to bed."  
  
"Um..." interrupted Bushroot quietly. Darkwing turned to look at him. He looked scared, but reluctant to call attention to it.  
  
"You can come through to the house again tonight if you want," Darkwing added.  
  
Bushroot smiled at him, a little shyly, almost demurely. "Thank you," he said, so quietly that Darkwing barely heard him. His eyes met Darkwing's, and for a second Darkwing found himself transfixed by just how blue they were. He quickly shook himself, and headed off to bed, never thinking once about how far he'd come in trusting Bushroot that he was leaving him alone with Goslyn and not giving it a second thought.  
  
***  
  
*"Now, I was just going to kill you and get it over with, but I've had some thoughts about making this a little more interesting before I do so."  
  
Darkwing gulped, and Negaduck ran a knife (a very big knife) across his neck, too lightly to even scratch, before with several quick, violent movements he'd cut Darkwing's costume off, somehow without injuring him. It was at this point Darkwing realized there was some significance to the fact he was handcuffed to Negaduck's bed. He whimpered, suddenly aware the seemingly unthinkable was about to occur.*  
  
There was a weight on his chest, and he tried to push it off, but it just purred at him, and snuggled closer. Catnip! Darkwing opened his eyes, and sure enough, just visible in the gloom of the pulled blinds was Goslyn's new pet.  
  
"Thanks, buddy," he whispered to her, giving her a pat. "Wake me next nightmare, hey?"  
  
She purred a little louder at him, as if this was a stupid thing to be questioning.  
  
He slept uninterrupted the rest of the evening.  
  
***  
  
Now, as you can see, this chapter hasn't been posted at Toonslash first. 


End file.
